An Enchantment of Pleasure and Pain
by vampirecheetah
Summary: Through the affects of an enchantment Malchior cast, Raven becomes spellbound to him...and perhaps he to her as well.


It had been three days. Three days since Raven had eaten. Three days since she had bothered to even glance at her bed for sleep. Three days since that fateful encounter had left the empath driven in an obsession to learn. It had been three days since she'd met Malchior, and it was taking its toll on her.

Purple eyes scanned across the surface of the large, aged, leather bound tome in front of her. She was tired, and had lost any desire to hold the books out in front of her face, levitating with her power. Now it was in her lap and hands, and her neck was beginning to ache at the terrible angle at which it bent to read. The pain was minor, and still far away from her thoughts, so focused was she on the contents in front of her.

This particular tome was written in Latin, which seemed to have been the more popular of languages the entire collection of spell books towering around her. It made the material a slow hill to climb, causing her to translate on the spot, but she was managing. At least as long as the words didn't keep blurring together.

A yawn began to crawl up the passages of her throat, and Raven fought to resist the urge to release it. It was a lost cause. Instantly Malchior's attention was caught the moment the sound escaped her lips, and with little effort the paper man appeared at her side behind a wall of books. Raven tried to ignore his sudden presence, ever determined to keep as focused as long as she possibly could.

"Raven, words cannot express the gratitude of your aid and determination, but I must intervene. You have not slept in days.," his soothing, accent heavy voice broke the silence that went with Raven's reading.

The black and blue cloaked teen didn't look up. "I'm fine." It came out so easy, as she'd said it millions of times before to her friends.

"You are fatigued," he countered, placing a hand gently on her shoulder. "I am concerned for your well being. One cannot effectively cast spells if one has not slept in days."

Raven didn't answer, her mind refocused again upon the pages before her. She couldn't be bothered by irritations such as sleep and food. Raven could go days without food, fasting in a temple had given her that form of discipline. Sleep was something she could do without. It was often laden heavy with the presence of her demonic father. Yes, food and sleep were minor frustrations indeed.

Malchior exhaled softly to her response, having long sensed her very independent nature. It really perturbed the dragon. His pawn was so determined to be independent and placid, but truthfully she was alone and hungered for attention. The cursed beast was satisfied enough to have a lonesome woman to pray on, but to have such a strong willed one as well to toy with…Malchior would certainly get his kicks out.

Keeping focused upon the health of his morsel, Malchior reassessed Raven's unwillingness to comply with his wishes. Such times caused for a little assertiveness on his part. With a mild motion of his wrist, the book within Raven's lap lifted away from her grasp. That finally drew Raven's attention as she turned her head up to him questioningly with a hard expression of accusation upon her fatigued features.

"You cannot even convert the language this late, can you," the enchanted man offered in point to his argument. He knew better than to point out the other's lack of keeping up a healthy appearance. That would earn him scorn no sooner than he'd think to do it.

Raven stared at him with intensity a moment more, his words of reason slipping into her head. Slowly her tense face and body relax. Malchior had easily interpreted the situation, and Raven wasn't fully in the mood to argue with him. It was hard to, really, his presence soothed her being.

She looked apologetic, the physical indication of a submissive answer in agreement to his question. Sighing, she spoke the words she spoke days before, "I just want to help you."

"I have waited over a thousand years; I believe that I can wait a few more days." His fingers, not having left their place on Raven's shoulder, squeezed with reassurance.

Raven looked into his eyes, only seeing that faith again in his light irises, and it drew a small, shy smile to her lips. It had been the most emotion she'd shown since she'd begun the research to break the curse.

"I suppose you're right," she admitted to him, a pale hand reaching behind her neck and rubbing it tenderly.

Malchior met Raven's smile with one of his own, a unique mix of a glint in his eyes and the slight bending of paper upon his face. He had been victorious in keeping his catch a healthy investment. He met what he said, one couldn't cast spells without the proper rest, and Malchior needed his black bird at the top of her game. He could taste freedom, and he could wait just a little longer.

Raven stood and groaned having received the official approval to quit. Just how long had she been sitting in that uncomfortable position? She stretched, effectively popping some of her joints in the process. With a shudder she was back to her usual emotionless self, and began the trek to her bed.

The journey was far longer than she'd anticipated it to be. Malchior had managed to transport numerous texts into her somewhat small abode. Their towering presences left her room very much like the maze inside her mind. The very thought had reminded her the last time Raven had literally set time aside to meditate, and the thought left her somewhat at a momentary pause of reflection.

Not since she had first met Malchior.

How could she honestly have let such a responsibility slip like that? She owed it to her friends and the world to keep her emotions in check, her powers in order. No, Raven couldn't afford sleep yet. Her eyes graced the welcoming sheets of her bed and Raven fought a battle between meditation and sleep. The willpower of a demon, however, was not to be forgotten, and Raven quickly forced herself away from her bed and towards her door. Oh how she wanted nothing more than to just ignore her responsibilities and succumb to sleep.

"Raven? I thought you were going to bed," Malchior's voice chimed in a casual, yet slightly concerned tone, his face lifting up from the book Raven had formerly been reading.

"Can't. Have to meditate.," it came out almost automated. Raven was that tired.

Meditation demanded her need of solitude, and although Raven loved Malchior's company, there was too much drastic change in the environment of her room for it to be affective. It would be the most beneficial to brave her friends seeing her in such a tired, hungry mess in order to make it to the roof.

The dragon, having talked intensively with the dark Raven, had anticipated her course of action. Clearly in her state there was a possibility she'd fall off the building somehow. It was possible, unlikely, but still possible. Malchior couldn't afford his chance at freedom to die from carelessness. Quickly he moved between the young darkly clad woman and the door. His paper hands instinctively rested upon her shoulders, stopping Raven before she walked into him.

"Perhaps I can provide an alternative to the form you have conveyed to me.," he suggested soothingly, thinking on his toes. "It may prove a welcome relief."

Raven eyed him skeptically. An alternative to keeping her powers and emotions in control, that was preposterous. Everything she'd learned on Azarath disproved of the possibilities, this was the only way to keep everything safe. Yet…Malchior had proved a well of knowledge, and he knew deep magic, strong magic that was old and impressively powerful. The probability of a better means of meditation may exist…but…Raven was still uncertain.

"Please? I only want what is best for you.," Malchior's silky voice seamed hopeful, as he sensed her apprehension.

Raven was inclined to drink in his words. She had been doing so since their first conversation. He was sincere. Yet…looking up and gazing into his illustrated, bright eyes only confirmed his pure intentions with ferocity.

"All right," Raven dismissively agreed.

"Splendid," the paper man sounded elated. "Perhaps we should try this near your bed; it is the most comfortable spot."

Raven raised a bemused, slightly concerned eyebrow. Now what was Malchior insinuating? Her hesitation didn't show in her movements, and she turned to retrieve his book established in the center of her room. She took it with great necessity not to drop it again, and followed Malchior at his side. After placing the book upon the desk near her bed, Raven turned fully to face him, waiting patiently for an explanation.

"You may not fully accept this form of mediation right off," he warned, tilting his head thoughtfully, "But, pray you hear all of what I have to say before judgment."

Malchior was a conniving genius. What better way to assure his sweet freedom than an enchantment? Raven easily showed the motions of being somewhat attractive towards him, and why not? He'd appealed towards her concerns, listened intently to her ranting and problems. He 'understood' her. Having that form of companionship was hard to resist. Adding magic to feeling would leave his Raven spellbound. However, it was a dark spell, leaving initial adverse affects before being of some substantial trickery use. He would have to use his way with words to assure that it was a harmless technique.

Malchior paused in his thoughts, seeing Raven awaiting his continuation. His expression was stern, his voice scholarly.

"From what you have told me, you must stifle your emotions in order to keep your powers balanced. You're form of meditation sedates these emotions, helping you to feel less of them when they arise.," the dragon first noted.

Raven merely nodded.

"What I am to teach you will be somewhat contradictory of what you have been formerly taught."

At that, Raven promptly made sure Malchior knew that she didn't like the sound of what he was indicating. The opposite of suppressing her emotions was to express them, and that could only lead to trouble. She appreciated Malchoir's concern, but Raven was certain she would have to decline his offer.

"Now, you said you would hear all of it," he gently scolded, at Raven's hardened expression. There was a pause in his lecture as Raven's face mildly softened, than he continued. "This technique will allow you to exhaust your emotions instead of forcing them into silence."

"But wouldn't I have to feel emotion to exhaust them," Raven voiced her earlier thoughts with an edge to her voice. "That would make me powers go haywire."

"Not if you exhaust them slowly.," the other countered, "It takes time for someone to manage performing this technique by oneself, and usually is beneficial the first several tries in the presence of one experienced in the art. I assure you that if your powers manage to escape your control, that I can easily concentrate and diminish the damage."

There was a moment's hesitation. Malchior was offering her a chance to feel emotion, actual emotion, without fear of repercussions. It was almost too good to be true. However, could Raven actually do this? She'd been suppressing her feelings so long that it seemed unlikely she'd ever truly feel the full lengths of those emotions. Did Malchior really have the power to help a deprived teenager?

"Are you…sure you can stop my powers getting out of hand," Raven's eyebrows were furrowed curiously, hopefully, her voice cautious if anything else.

"Sorcerer's honor," Malchior assured, paper hand upon heart. His voice was confident and bright, promising only the best to come of these actions.

"All right…," Raven stated uneasily, "What am I supposed to do?"

Again there was that smile upon the paper man, but it was more noticeable in his light eyes than on his inanimate face. His hands soothingly took Raven's and his body neared hers. Naturally any closeness initially made her tense, but it faded fast, her mild fear replaced with warmth.

"First we must exhaust that of negative emotions. They are the hardest to expunge, but there is the reward of feeling positive emotions towards the end.," he calmly stated, knowing exactly the manor in which the spell would react to take complete affect. "Since you've never done this before, it may be quite intense…are you sure you do not wish to do this after you have slept?"

There was that mock concern, a sincere concern that Raven fully believed. She nodded, just slightly more nervous after hearing his words. More than she'd like to admit, Raven had literal demons in her closet, hateful unruly emotions she'd never liked to fathom existed. Giving into those emotions may be too much for Malchior to contend with…after all, he was trapped by a dragon; it seemed unlikely he'd manage to hold his own against the likes of a demon. Still, there was that supportive, confident glint in his eyes that reassured her.

Again, she nodded in confirmation, "No, I want to do this."

"Good," there was that reassurance, "Now, close your eyes, I shall do the rest. All you have to do is allow the emotions to run their course, do not resist them."

Raven inhaled shakily, before placing the full of her trust in Malchior's hands. She closed her violet eyes and waited as the paper man lifted one hand to her head. He gestured with it and a green energy gathered to life. Using a small movement, accompanied mentally with the trigger command, the green energy snaked around her head before seeping into her charka gem. A slightly pained groan escaped her and her body collapsed in instant limpness.

Malchior had anticipated this, and caught her with ease. He scooped an arm under her legs and placed his succulent Raven onto the circular mattress. It would take a moment for it to start working fully, and Malchior positioned himself in a means to prepare for everything to follow.

He hadn't lied entirely when he stated Raven would have to exhaust her emotions, for she would. Because of that Raven's own warning of random flying projectiles of black energy would be taken into precaution. Malchior murmured a set of spells, turning the hue and the temperature in the room for just a slight moment before returning to normal. That would protect his boundless collection of reading material, and anything else in the room. Then, he positioned himself in a way over Raven to pin her limbs down.

This too, was just as precautionary as the safety of all personal items. Raven was his only chance at freedom. Malchior hated to say he needed the purple haired woman, but it was a truth he couldn't ignore. Should Raven harm herself somehow through the displays of dark, negative emotions, it would only lengthen the time spent in his book. Malchior was patient, yes, but wanted out as soon as he possibly could.

No sooner with the end of that thought did Raven come back to life. A complete body flinch and Raven's eyes bolted open. Her usual calm eyes were far from their usual countenance. The pupils were dilated, eyes were wide. A fearful glaze had established itself into her lavender irises, saline tears were welling up. Her body trembled, her heart rate increased, breathes came in short gasps.

"Raven," Malchior coaxed patiently, squeezing her writs to make sure her petite frame was pinned safely beneath his weight.

"It's so d-dark…," her lips trembled, her voice cracking with a clear note of fear. Her eyes blinked systematically, her forming tears billowing over her lids and down her cheeks.

Instead of trying to comfort the obvious terrified trance like Raven, he merely offered to fuel the emotion more. Malchior knew the only way to complete the spell was to expunge the other's fears and angers, replacing them with comfort and warmth. It would create the illusion that his presence would forever stifle such feelings, and one kept the company of those that made them happy. Using that he could easily falsify a reason for Raven to become captivated with him, in point, succumbing to the enchantment. That was how they worked.

"Dark, yes," his usually silkie voice was more a cat like purr now, a bit of his original personality shining through that of his façade. With Raven within the trance it was likely she wouldn't remember most of the darker elements being played. If she did, well then Malchior would tell her that the self reflection of the 'meditation' used imagination to stretch the truth of her fears. Raven had no reason not to believe him. "Dark and cold…isn't it?"

So thick was the timid fear that bubbled nervously inside her, that Raven was unable to verbally answer this time. Instead, she shook her head in a quick spurt, as if her life depended on reserving as much energy as possible.

"Do you fear the dark, Raven?" Malchior egged slightly on.

"Y-yes," another chocked answer, "He's dark….so, so dark…!"

Her eyes clenched shut as if to block the sight of the accused from her mind. Sweat began to bead up upon her face, under her arms, on her palms. Every indication of her fear, and that she was caught deep within his spell.

"He's there," Malchior assured positively, enjoying the squirming body beneath him, "He's looking for you."

"No…no…please no….," she begged, swaying her head in denial. The tears continued to slide down her cheek. "Don't leave me alone…! I don't want to be alone…!"

Ah, Malchior noted. There was that fear of loneliness, that fear he'd assertively prayed upon. It was bound to spring up without any shadow of doubt. Self conscious sniveling wench. Just the way he liked them.

"But you are alone. Alone with Him, are you not," Malchior continued.

At that Raven began to openly sob, her body never ceasing to tremble with body numbing fright. Finally the first signs of her powers began to act up. Towers of books began to knock over under her emotions. Volumes lifted and hurtled powerfully at walls. Malchior narrowed his eyes, encasing these books within green energy, halting them where they flew, dropping motionless to the ground seconds later. He then chanted an addition to his earlier spell, enhancing the affects to keep the environment untouched.

Raven's weeping ebbed, her breaths taken in labored pants. Her eyes gazed fearfully through Malchior, peering into the blackness around her. "He talks to me…talks…and the laughing…oh Azar the laughing…!" It was trailed by another chocked sob.

"And what is he laughing about," he purred, appearing to be curious.

"He makes me do things…," her eyes darted frequently in a paranoid fashion, as if the accused were listening. A blink and fresh tears continued, "B-bad, bad things!"

"I try to s-stop…," Raven stuttered, "But He makes me…He makes me act like Him…I don't want to be like Him…I don't…but He laughs…" Eyes wavered, body racked with snivels. "He…laughs…at…me!"

There was a drowning pause as Raven stared wide eyed to the ceiling, mouth slightly ajar in frightful awe. Suddenly her eyes enlarged further, nearly bulging from their sockets. "Not mother…! Anyone but her!"

"Your mother, hmm," the paper man mused, mistaking her mother to be an aggressor, "What is she doing to you?"

"No…no, no…He has her…He has my mother," she shrieked, "MOTHER!"

"Shu-shu, now. Quiet," his catty purr became concerned and motherly. Malchior reluctantly offered mild comfort. It only served to alarm her further, for Raven's eyes were searching wildly, head jerking from side to side in rejection. Hastily that led to all out body thrashing.

"LET ME GO! GET OFF ME," her voice was shrill. Her crazed glassy eyes locked on his for the first time, some semblance of consciousness behind those orbs. Her accentuated fear rationalized the motives of an individual on top of her, and she justly responded. "DON'T TOUCH ME! I DON'T WANT TO BE RAPED LIKE MOTHER! STOP IT!"

Malchior held his ground firmly, cringing at the force behind her vocals. It was a normal reaction any female undergoing such a spell. In no means did he out right blame her of such a response, but it did infuriate him to quite a degree. It was a good thing that the woman beneath him was his ticket to independence, or else he wouldn't tolerate such a screeching sound. Immediately he countered the degree of volume down several decibels with a small chant. The last thing he wanted was for her bothersome 'friends' to barge into her room and see the position they were in.

Raven tried to resist under him, but three days lack of sleep with no food had left her weak, and fear naturally went hand in hand with weakness. The vigor which she fought with soon diminished. Now she was begging under him.

"…please…," there was a shaky texture to her voice " …please don't rape me like He did my mother…" Her eyes pleaded up at him desperately, and she whimpered even softer.

"…please?" A pause, "I don't want to experience how my mother conceived me."

So that was what it was, Malchior mused. The child was frightened that she would become something terrible like the father whom had apparently forced himself upon her mother. It was quite possible, or at least it was certain from the time frame Malchior had lived in, that having such a child out of wedlock left her alone and shunned. She feared most physical touch, and certainly any sensual contact as well, all fault of her mother's predicament. This enchantment than would due the wench some good.

"And what if I told you that I have no intentions of obeying such a request," his paper lips curled into a Cheshire grin, his eyes dancing with mischief. The sooner they'd exhausted the fear, the closer to his prize.

Raven's eyes swelled again, tears just as strong as ever. Malchior moved a knee up between her thighs as if to assure the truth behind his words. Instantly the empath froze like a deer caught in headlights, unable to struggle freely. She began to cry again, body tense and unsteady, waiting for the inevitable. Malchior's knee touched up between her legs, adding and removing pressure, each time sounding another heart wrenched sob from Raven.

Somewhere within the room, a fly aggressively buzzed. The green insect prepared himself to transform into something feral and aggressive to defend Raven from actions that had beyond passed the line. The ashen skinned teen had passed out by the time the fly had made the journey to her head. Beast Boy hovered around the two, hesitating in offensive action when Malchior stopped his uncalled for actions. Finally any hint of fear that'd been on Raven's face previously slid away to a calmed, peaceful state. Half satisfied with this, the fly returned to his post on a wall.

Raven remained in the calm state moments more, to which Malchior reimbursed the spells in the room once more. Slowly her tranquil face showed emotion, that of a malicious glare. Then she opened her eyes, all red four of them.

Malchior did not hide the gasp of shock that arose from him. This was an implication he hadn't made calculations for. This was no longer the small waif of a girl he'd lathered with sympathetic thoughts…this was a Trigonian demon, a _powerful_ Trigonian demon. If memory served the dragon right, they were horrible imp faced creatures with a temper to match their red skin. Their heads were graced with four eyes and horns that would make any child laugh. Though, certainly any child laughing wouldn't live long enough to finish such remarks of humor. It was…rather intriguing to see the life beneath him the classic four eyes, but lacking of the other physical qualities.

"Well you are certainly rather adorable.," Malchior crooned with the same sarcasm he'd used to agree with Raven of Beast Boy's intelligence level.

Pale hands stretched, fingers moving, becoming fists. Strength went behind those clenched fists as Raven's knuckles swiftly became sheet white. She snarled an undecipherable snarl in a display of her shark like teeth. The expression upon her face best suited a jackal, and Malchior was truly intrigued as the demon finally found it's voice.

"It's been quite some time since someone was either brave or foolish enough to state such a remark to one of my kind." No longer was Raven's voice weak, shaky, or broken. Now it was a low key, but quite strong upon its own accord. It was accentuated by a tangible growl that rumbled on her words, one that Malchior was finding somewhat irresistible.

"I suppose now you will be telling me that my insolence deserves punishment," he questioned coolly, a false attachment of boredom to his own voice.

Raven lunged with ferocity, but Malchior's grip held firm. Snarling, she declared angrily, "Fuck off."

The paper man blinked a moment. He was a beast still in transition to this modern world. Though its exact translation eluded the dragon, he got the hint that it definitely was a quite sneer and cruel remark through the tone of her voice. No doubt this was a very anger driven, domineering devil of a girl. No wonder she was so viscously independent.

"I forgot that you have nothing to work with…It must be so…stressful not having a body to knock up within that book of yours." Raven smiled smugly at the brief flash of confusion on his illustrated paper face. "Over a thousand years of tension…I wonder when I'll decide you should be let out." Her voice rose in a chortle that rubbed the dragon raw.

Malchior admitted the demon was right. Raven had the power to decide when he was let out or not…which meant he had to keep his ropes tightly around her if he were to weasel his freedom from her. Hence the reason he was casting this spell on her to begin with. However she was easily pressing his buttons now as much as he probably would hers. The dragon couldn't remember the last time something incensed him so, or since he'd physically undid him. Such she rubbed so easily into his face.

"Clearly if you are what I believe you to be, than should you not constitute more anger than mockery? Or are you merely just full of hot air?" Malchior defended.

Unexpectedly the paper man was suddenly flipped to his back, the demon securely straddling him, her small ashen hands pinning his arms with no effort. Her face was no longer full of joke, but displayed bitter loathing so great a magnitude that it put any doubt in Malchior's mind to rest. He was definitely at the receiving end of demonic fury.

"I believe you are the one that's full of hot air, Malchior," her lips briefly tugged into a sly smirk, an indication to the enchanted man that perhaps subconsciously the dark empath was aware of his true form.

Malchior tested his restraint, and quickly realized that along with this demonic rage came large quantities of physical strength. He mentally cast another spell, one that would hopefully unnoticeably drain his captor's strength and transfer it to him. The longer that Raven wasn't restrained by him, the more likely she could manage to not only hurt herself, but him, or any other unsuspecting victim. Though the thought aroused him, he couldn't afford that just yet.

"Rule one, Malchior," Raven said mockingly sugary sweet, before her voice became an unnatural primal roar, "Submission on my part is unfathomable!"

Knowing she was pissed was half the battle. Now all Malchior had to provoke her more and make it worse. He had to say…he was equally enraged and quite enamored with this facet before him. Raven had barely flinched when he'd been forced under her. Malchior hasn't seen such power since his fight with Rorek. It would be rather intriguing to see the full force of that demonic rage. Being a dragon, he could quite easily see the pleasure in it.

"That is truly splendid Raven, but really? Straddling me and just sitting there is ridiculous.," he chuckled, adding insult to words. "You are a far lot from threatening."

What came next was a sudden reflexive lashing. Raven lunged, her jaw wide, serrated teeth sinking deeply into the confines of Malchior's paper neck. The thin pieces shredded as she gnashed, drawing forth a gasp of pain from the man parading dragon. It was exquisite, he hadn't felt much sensation at all while trapped in his book, aside the feelings of vengeance and lust that built over the years. Feeling something so physical that it broke through the fabrics of magical orientation and striking injury to his body bound in the book was one he enjoyed much.

The demon raised her head, a crazed expression on her usually flaccid face. Blood dripped from her now reddened lips, a mixture of both severe paper cuts and of Malchior's actual blood.

"So paper men really do bleed," she breathed in a growl. Her tongue licked the corners of her lips greedily.

Malchior's eyes were wide with the sensation in his neck, equally enjoying and loathing it. "Y-you…!"

Raven's red eyes twinkled in a way to send shivers down the strongest of spines. She expected him to lash out in fear, as it would only serve to display such angry emotions through violence once more. After all, one would never think twice before mocking a demon again after that.

"You," Malchior restated, "are beautiful."

The man had meant it in a means only a dragon could truly see. Unlike when he had merely stated such a thing earlier that week when Raven performed one of his spells, this time he honestly meant it. There was something deliciously satisfying in seeing such a malicious creature before him, and Malchior was going to use that remark to his advantage.

Raven's four eyes widened with surprise. It was a gamble, the exact comment hardly appealed to darker emotions. It could easily make her madder, or lessen that anger. Despite wanting to feel Raven's anger, the need to catch her totally off guard preceded his wants.

Raven looked at him crudely. "Your kind's just as pathetic as huma—" Malchior broke free of Raven's grip, his paper hands grasping her shoulders. He flexed in order to roll her back over in the same manor she had him, but Raven was not going anywhere so easily. Her hands found a new home on the faux man, inside his chest. Raven viscously ripped and tore at the aged parchment in a craze.

Malchior yelled out, instantly loosing much of any fight he had put up. Like his neck, his chest shredded and ripped with no resistance. Blood poured out, the damage similarly done to his real body inside the book. Suddenly he felt her hands clutch around something solid inside him, an invisible element Malchior knew still to be in his true body.

Raven giggled giddily in her madness. "I suppose paper men are allowed to have hearts too."

Her grip tightened and Malchior flinched with a groan.

"And you have ensnared mine sweet Raven, more than you know." His body shuddered with pain and pleasure. "I never thought to be enamored with a demon."

Another squeeze tightened around the organ. The amusement was once again gone from her voice. "Enough games! You'll be first to suffer at my wrath, and for that I must make an example of you."

That jackal expression returned.

"Sorry Raven, we cannot have that," he cringed. Suddenly their roles were reversed once again, Malchior having used her moment of gloating to use the strength he had drained from her.

Raven struggled, "I HATE YOU!"

Once more Malchior used a spell to lower the decibels, and added several more to decrease the other's strength. A triumphant grin was in his pale eyes having made his assertiveness dominant again. He was back in control of the wench, and he made sure she knew it.

"How is good old Trigon," Malchior questioned. He was aware of that name back so long ago, and if Raven was every bit of the demon she acted like than she would've known of Trigon's existence as well. He was, after all, what that branch of demons was named after.

"I hate him." Raven's face contorted in the epitome of anger and hatred, responding accordingly to him. "Father's just another pathetic voice in my head."

She struggling with effort beneath the other once more. "I may let him use me now, but the moment he's free and we have this world, I shall lynch his foul flesh in a fire more excruciating than hell's!"

Malchior appeared about as impressed as a paper man could with his neck and chest ripped open.

"Never spoken truer of a Trigonian demon," Malchior encouraged, "I would never suspect that 'He' you fear was the grandfather of all demons and your father."

A pause. "You truly are adorable."

Raven lunged again in aggressive resistance. Her mouth was open in a roar of primal demonic shrieks. When Raven made sense, she screamed at him in tongues. Malchior barely recognized them to be hellish in origin. He said nothing to her, just merely contained his position, which served to fuel that anger enough to run its course. In minutes, the struggling grew weaker, her voice lowered; finally she'd passed out like she'd done previously.

Malchior stared in awe down at her given the momentary break. His bargaining chip to freedom was none other then the daughter of the devil. There was no doubt she had the power to back up the counter curse, but the knowledge and want of control was diluted with her mother's blood. Living among these humans had probably left her only solution to remain hidden with the use of meditation to suppress those demonic emotions. And hiding among the protectors of this city? She was a demon trying to act like the saints who fought in the crusade to kill her very kind. No wonder the child felt alone and creepy. She was in every right.

"Raven, you are honestly a queer bird," he murmured dotingly. Raven's down time was affectively used to repair the damage done to his hosting body. The blood vanished, the paper reformed, he was to his normal enchanted self. Likewise, he also removed the residue of blood on Raven's face and clothing. Malchior didn't want to explain that to her when she would come to shortly. Now that the negativity inside her had been expressed and repressed, Malchior could insert the concept of love through his presence. It would be fun for the two of them.

A soft groan broke the silence in the air, and Raven's finger twitched as if stretching and waking up from a nap. It was a welcome relief to the intensity to which her hands had been previously clenched. Her eyes parted slowly, before fluttering open fully. She turned her head questioningly, focusing completely upon Malchior hovering over her. Raven paused, trying to waken from a daze, and trying to understand why her paper man was holding her to her bed.

"What are you…," she questioned slowly, groggily, unable to complete the thought.

"Fear not," Malchior assured, dismissing his earlier catlike behavior. He restated the idea that this was still a meditation technique to the sorceress, "The hardest part is passed, and we have reached the positive spectrum of this meditation form."

A reddish blush drew up in her cheeks. "I…can't remember, what did I…?"

"Shu," he comforted, "It is best not to remember the expelling of negative emotions. It only hinders expressing the positive ones."

Raven looked distant, deep in thought. Somewhere in the back of her mind she sensed the fleeting remains of what had happened. "I…was scared…angry…"

"Try not to think of that.," the dragon instructed, his voice positive and reassuring, "How do you feel now?"

The dark empath looked up at him above her, that womanly blush returning with fervor. She felt hot, embarrassed…curious…? Slightly uncomfortable with Malchior pinning her, but she didn't entirely not want it. Terribly excited, but anxious for what was happening.

"I…," Raven tried to describe, before her face deepened another shade. Her head turned to look away from his gaze in awkwardness.

"Hmm? …Oh...," Malchior's voice sounded rather surprised as he pretended to identify right away the signs. He purposely hesitated in moving.

"Raven, if it is _that_…" His voice paused, and his eyes shyly curled away from her face in gentlemanly embarrassment. Malchior continued his plausible lie. "I had forgotten that these emotions arise during this technique. In fact I would not be holding you like this if I was not afraid you would have hurt yourself earlier."

He'd sounded just as flabbergasted as she was. The dark magus was curious as to why at first, until her thought processes began to work in her favor. Once out of her grogginess, she noted the time frame to which Malchior had matched. Individuals of that area were chivalrous, which he undoubtedly was. The mere act of holding hands with a significant other in public was absurd. Certainly Malchior had been uncomfortable the entire time, but went out of his way to assure her safety. Yet…it was a small sting hearing he wouldn't hold her like this unless she was at risk. Why wasn't it something more? He'd flattered her earlier…

"…You said I have to express these emotions to get past them," her voice was soft, uncertain, shy. She still was unable to look him in the eyes.

"Yes…," Malchior hesitated with purpose, "My apologies, Raven. I did not think this through. I do not want you to do anything that is uncomfortable."

"It's not…uncomfortable…just unusual," Raven assured him, trying to decipher her sudden wanting of Malchior's embrace.

"You do not have to go through with this technique, I can stop it.," Malchior insisted, making an appeal to Raven's weakness. If it appeared he thought her not strong enough to do it, she would defiantly prove him wrong. "You are conscious enough now to be able to feel the emotions and remember; I cannot make this decision for you."

"No, I want to do this.," Raven was sure in her response, turning her head to face him again. There was an intensity in her eyes as she looked into his uncertain face. "I want a chance to feel happy. I want to feel—"

"Loved.," Malchior finished, his eyes returning to hers. Their gaze held the other for a brief eternity.

That blush slightly returned, and Raven exhaled a shaky breath. "And you suspected that," she responded, "You understand me Malchior. You knew I needed this."

There was a pause, but Malchior nodded in affirmation. His eyes were nervous just slightly, in admitting that truth to her. Raven could sense his insecurity in his actions, but Raven dismissed them, knowing that Malchior's intentions were to help her as she was helping him.

He eased his presence off of her, well aware that the young woman was in a state that wouldn't cause her any pain. His body against hers was sorely missed, but Raven tried to suppress that and sat up as the redness diminished from her cheeks. Purple eyes watched him intently. A spell was cast by Malchior's hand coinciding with the murmuring of words. It allowed a gentle wash of green light to come over him. His body turned around to face her, and he beckoned for her to approach him.

"What did you just cast?" Raven obeyed his request as her heart beat with a certain giddiness at the hope of coming closer.

"An illusionary spell that will hopefully appeal towards your tastes.," he answered truthfully, though the image he was crafting of himself was of Rorek, "Although I am still paper, you may come to view and feel me as the man I truly am."

He stepped closer to her, his hands finding her elbows and lifting her black sleeved arms upwards, guiding her hands to lie against his chest. At first she did nothing, felt nothing except paper, but then the sensation reached her fingertips. Surprise and curiosity displayed on her face. Raven pressed with her fingers, lifting and adding resistance. Ashen digits rubbed, her hands gliding over the surface of pectoral.

"M-Malchior…," she breathed out, either from surprise or arousal, "It feels like skin…it really feels like skin."

Raven was mesmerized at the prospect of smooth skin beneath her fingertips. Her mind reminded her that it still wasn't real skin, and perhaps that eased any apprehension on her part. She began rubbing her hands slowly once more over the region, as if to memorize the shape and build. Her fingers moved down just slightly, sliding towards his rips. The paths of his thoracic cage were traced under his arms towards his back with the same intrigue. Raven found then the relaxed scapula, and imploringly touched the shoulder blades, inching towards his spin.

Malchior resisted the shivers Raven's inquiring touch left upon him. It was pleasing in a different manor than the torture her angry facet had given him, but it was just as welcome. Her caress was soft a sensual, and despite being a dragon with countless spells to command, it still worked its magic on him. He knew the other to be timid in freely touching, allowing and enticing her in such a format left her more susceptible to his own explorations and little to fear or suspect.

Paper hands rose to the dark empath's shoulders. His thumbs rubbed the area affectionately with pressure, messaging the tendons and ligaments through her cloak. There was no hurry as he then trailed them inward, to her poised neck. Fingers feather touched the distance up it, until a hand was permitted to cup her cheek with tenderness. Her blush softly returned as he rubbed her face lovingly, his thumb tracing her chin and lips.

Raven felt the muscles in his back knot and loosen under her stroking. So caught up in her actions she was only basically aware of the contact on her own body, feeling only the warmth and excitement behind Malchior's hands. Her shoulders loosened, her neck stretched, her face was calm and warm. Sensations at an ant's crawl began to slide down the base of her neck and down the lengths of her spine. Her breath caught up sharply in her throat, knees suddenly weak. Her hands returned to his chest and her body extended naturally under his contact. Unsure of her ability to remain standing she leaned into him.

Malchior's hand made the journey back up her spine, noticeably causing a shiver at such stimulus. Ever so slowly he moved his fingertips back down the path. This time it felt as if her legs truly would come out, and Malchior held Raven standing with a hand on her shoulder, and the other resting at the crook of her back. The odd balance allowed Raven to tilt her head back in order to look the other in the face. No longer was his face of paper, but of that of an attractive man. He looked back down at her with feminine eyes, his long lashes only reassured to Raven this was still the Malchior she'd come to know.

That heated blush returned to her cheeks with intensity, her breath quickened. She raised her own hands to touch and explore his face as he had done hers. His skin was so soft, lips thin and delicate. The desire formed somehow in her mind to taste those lips, and as she reached to do so he knowingly lowered slowly in approval. The kiss was light, but tantalizing and oh so irresistible. Their mouths breaking just for a prepared intake before meeting once more, growing swiftly to more passionate displays.

Raven found her arms trailing up and around his neck, pulling her body tighter against his to deepen their exchange. Malchoir's hold on her strengthened, both hands now rubbing attentively up and down her spine. It only served their closeness further, her ashen hands running through his silver strands, not knowing what to do with them but needing to do something all the same. A soft coo escaped her, an incoherent message of her gratification.

Malchior moved his legs, and Raven subconsciously stumbled back to his actions. Their bodies fell back onto the bed, the kiss deepening further still. Natural instinct seemed to take control of the situation, as Malchior lifted himself but still engaging in their kiss. Hands removed the clasp of her cloak, its fabrics falling to serve as a blanket beneath them. She felt his presence lightly tracing her breasts before cupping each and carefully messaging.

Their lips broke in a panting reprieve, their eyes looking at the other half lidded. Malchior's lips tugged into a coy, content expression. He restated his earlier claim, lowering his lips to her neck, breathing softly into her ear. "You are beautiful…"

"…Malchior…," Raven whispered, following in a mew of response to the hot air tickling the insides of her ear. This was only continued with more unnatural sounds of consent as he lavished her. His body lowered fully atop her again, a brief moment before their two forms accommodated for the others, and becoming one.

Subconsciously her legs found their way around his hips, her pelvis pressed firmly against his groin. Although he had no true means of fully completing such an act in the traditional sense, he did not hesitate in rubbing himself provocatively against her. When there was no objection to his actions, he promptly continued.

Minutes of pulsing sensations caused Raven's breath to come shorter still, vocalized in pleasured groans and pants, her entire body growing tense with taught muscles. Malchior quickened his pace delighted at the sounds he heard. Her body grew more taught, quivering at his actions. Finally she tensed up, her eyes rolling back, a wave of euphoria rolling downward to her curled toes, then absolute limpness.

The enchanted man redistributed his weight, leaning to kiss the child's charka stone. The spell had been complete, and residue of his energy left the way it came in, swallowed into inexistence through his mouth. Her eyes remained closed, her chest shakily withdrawing in deep breaths. Malchior's illusionary lips tugged into a smug smirk.

"Raven…," he purred gently, as glancing down at his keepsake.

"…umm…," she half consciously replied.

"I believe you should look at this.," Malchior continued.

"…what…," she said breathlessly, opening her eyes half focused.

Malchior lifted himself just slightly from her. "Your clothing appears to have…changed hues."

Raven half lifted herself up, placing weight upon her elbows. She looked down inquisitively at herself to see Malchior was right. Her clothing had changed. What was once a blue cloak and black leotard was now white. This captured the bulk of her attention, momentarily shifting their pleasurable entanglement to the back of her mind. Raven shakily pulled herself from under him, looking at the uniform in its entirety. Yes, all of it was white.

"You…didn't do this," she slowly indicated his own repertoire of spells and incantations.

"I assure you that my mind was focused on other matters," the illusion was swiftly fading to reveal the paper man once more. He didn't know of the enchantment to leave a change of clothing as an aftereffect…but maybe it had been in response to the uniqueness of the dark woman.

"Then I did it.," Raven concluded, blushing fiercely at the indication he'd made, and coughed out of embarrassment. She felt the fabric of her discarded cloak, eyeing it suspiciously.

Malchior honestly was curious and spoke it accordingly. "How? Why?"

Raven remained silent a moment in contemplation. "Because…," she started thoughtfully, looking up to face him, "I…trusted you with my emotions, and you helped me. I'm…happier than before."

"That is always welcoming news," he placed a hand atop her head, mentally chuckling at the naivety of her words. Raven smiled slightly back to him, and yawned with content.

"I think that's enough meditation for the night, now you must get some rest.," Malchior instructed, his paper body turning to stand from the bed. He had his fun, both physical and mental. Malchior resigned to leave the bed areas, until he felt her hand grasp around his arm. He looked back down towards her with an almost concerned face.

"Could you…stay with me tonight," Raven nervously asked, "I…I don't want to be alone, not when I can be with you."

Malchior's light eyes smiled in response. He crawled back onto the surface of the bed, wrapping paper arms around her waste and laying down with her. "Of course."

"Thank you…," Raven turned her head to look at his face the best she could. Even though the illusion was gone, Raven could still imagine how he looked. How gentle he was with her, how caring and comforting. She wanted so badly then to help free him of the spell. Tomorrow she would work harder. She restated, "Thank you for everything."

"Sweet Raven, I only wish I could do more." Malchior replied, his words having unnoticed deeper connotations.

The dark magus smiled a true smile. Knowing the fleeting thought of his selflessness, Raven settled back down without argument. Her back snuggled deeply into his chest. A heavy sigh later, and her head was resting on a pillow. It took mere moments for her lengthy absence of sleep to take its toll, and she rapidly slipped consciousness.

Once asleep, Malchior's eyes grinned with mischief. His spell had been a worthy experience. The spell had managed to work flawlessly over his morsel, and…it allowed him to see the delectable side of her that he found unable to completely resist. As he had enchanted her, so too had she he.

Sadly, that facet he found so damn likable would be unlikely to surface. It would appear according to her clothing that while in this state of…'happiness' she probably would not respond so positively to that demonic anger of hers. It did however serve a purpose. If he could keep her away from that emotion, his freedom would be granted. Then…perhaps when he had his fill of vengeance, he could provoke the demon in his sweet black bird to emerge and play a tantalizing game of pain and pleasure.

Malchior sighed dreamily, placing a hand dotingly on Raven's head, his eyes closing shut. Ah, his sweet black bird…


End file.
